


playing in the snow doesn't always end with a cold

by blueuniform



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: First Kiss, Frottage, M/M, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 10:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueuniform/pseuds/blueuniform
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's snow on the ground so, naturally, the boys dive into it. In fact, they get so invested in the snow that they don't notice Harry and Louis getting distracted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	playing in the snow doesn't always end with a cold

**Author's Note:**

> This is so awfully written, I don't know why it came out so badly. I'm sorry, it had so much potential but I lost steam half-way through but I really wanted to post something. So yeah, sorry in advance for the disappointment.
> 
> I may come back to this story in the future, to improve it.

Louis woke up sharply, his throat making an unattractive snort-like noise as he was wrenched back into consciousness. He blinked, trying to get his bearings as his eyes adjusted to the bright room, and stared straight into the eyes of Niall Horan, who was hovering excitedly over him. He stared at the Irish boy in confusion before addressing him.

“What the hell, Niall?”

“It’s snowing!” Niall replied, buoyed into action by Louis' attention as he bounced away, pulling open the curtains and cheerily blinding him. Louis flung an arm over his eyes before his brain registered what had just been said. He ripped his arm away, gawking up at Niall and then past him to stare out of his window. Sure enough, there was the world, covered in white. He grinned, jumping up from his bed. He slapped Niall on the shoulder by way of thank you, flinging his wardrobe doors open as he searched for his warmest jumper. Niall beamed at him, leaving him to get dressed with a, “See you outside in five!”

Louis ignored him. He pulled out a bright orange fleece, wincing at it before tossing it aside. He heard Niall yell something in the distance that may have been, “Be careful, Liam’s—“ but then he was cut off by a thud and roaring laughter. Louis sped up, not wanting to miss the fun.

He left his room in a hurry, grey jogging bottoms pulled up to his hips with a navy blue pull-over on top. He couldn’t find anything warmer and it’s not like they were heading out very far so he figured he could afford to get soaked.

He broke out into a light jog, reaching his arm out to slide around a corner without falling as he made his way to the front door. He pulled it open, catching a glimpse of the white world before he was thrown face-first into the snow. He turned to glare at the boys who were all-doubled over by the door, high-fiving each other for what they clearly thought was the prank of the century. Niall lay beside him, red face covered in snow flakes in clear punishment for what Louis now realised was Niall trying to warn him. 

Louis staggered up, brushing himself off before charging straight into the first boy he laid his eyes on, tackling him round the middle and forcing them both into the snow. He looked up to see who’d he’d managed to attack and found Harry’s green eyes staring back at him, bright from the cold and his laughter. He smiled at Harry, face going soft before he was roughly pulled back into the now by all three of the boys jumping on top of them, pinning Harry against the ground. Harry let out an ‘oomph’ as all the air was swept out his lungs, the boys whooping and hollering above him. 

Louis grabbed a handful of snow in his bare hand and threw it back until his hand came into contact with a face. He heard a shriek and he smiled smugly, having obviously hit Zayn in the face. Zayn stumbled off the bundle, pulling Liam off balance as he did so. Liam fell over, falling on top of Zayn and pressing him further into the snow as Zayn flailed about and screamed something to do with how he couldn’t see. Louis looked around for Niall, only to see him kneeling in the snow, bent-over double as he watched Liam’s attempts to scramble off of Zayn.

Louis turned back to Harry who was now lying calmly beneath him. Harry let a mischievous smile curve his face and the next thing Louis knew, he was being rolled over into the snow, cold seeping into his hair. He laughed and said, “I don’t think so, Harold,” before grabbing Harry’s biceps and tumbling them round so Harry was once again beneath him. This resulted in a tumble-fight, each boy trying to get on top of the other.

After quite a few turns, Louis stopped and seated himself comfortably astride Harry’s waist, legs either side of Harry’s legs as he smiled smugly down at him. He pinned Harry’s shoulders down with his hands, putting his weight on his arms so that Harry could do nothing but kick. This had the added effect of bringing their faces closer together so Louis could practically count every individual eyelash framing Harry’s green eyes. 

They stared at each other, adrenaline colouring their faces. After a few seconds, Louis discovered that he was breathing incredibly heavily, breaths escaping in short, sharp pants from the effort of pinning the boy down. Harry was much the same, cheeks pink from the exertion. He looked like he’d just been fucked and Louis banished that thought as soon as it entered his mind, preferring to lock it in his brain for lonely nights. 

Louis decided that they’d been silent for too long so he quirked an eyebrow at Harry in a silent statement of victory. Harry wiggled his shoulders, testing Louis’ hold on him before he gave up, his head falling back as he let out a moan of dismay. Louis gasped, the sound going straight to his cock as his arms twitched. Harry thrashed once, eyes still closed as he brought his legs up to wind themselves around Louis’ waist as he tried, one last time, to fight Louis’ hold. When he realised it was no good, he dropped them, opening his eyes to smile at Louis.

His eyes widened as he took in Louis’ face. Louis felt a wave of embarrassment as he realised he was probably flushed with arousal, pupils blown wide with the pornographic images that Louis’ brain had conjured up, aided by the simply dirty sound Harry had just made. He could feel his cock throbbing and he could do nothing, _nothing_ , to stop his brain from replaying Harry’s moan, attaching it to Louis’ favourite fantasy. Louis felt slightly sick but he couldn’t move, legs paralysed around Harry’s waist.

He was staring at Harry’s chest in embarrassment when he felt his legs being knocked out from under him, pushing his crotch against Harry’s as his legs hit the ground with a thump. He hissed with both pain and pleasure, his cock throbbing through the thin layer of material separating him from Harry. He looked up to find Harry staring at him open-mouthed, breath making small clouds in the cold air. As they stared at each other, Louis felt Harry twitch his hips against his own and Louis puffed out a quick breath as he felt Harry’s arousal firmly against his own. He rutted up against it tentatively and Harry let out that broken moan again, spurring them both into action. Louis threw his head back, hips rubbing against Harry’s as he stared at the boy beneath him.

In the distance he heard a, “Harry! Louis!” from over the hill where, he presumed, the rest of the boys were standing. 

His brain jumped back into action, hips locking at the same time as his body shuddered – he’d forgotten all about the cold – and he thanked whatever God was there that the others couldn’t see them.

He heard Niall’s cheery accent mutter something about, “they must’ve gone inside,” before the voices died away, leaving the two boys sprawled together, utterly alone.

Harry let out a laugh, teeth white against the snow as he stared up breathlessly at Louis. Louis was watching Harry, eyes drifting down to focus on Harry’s lips, which were red and swollen from the cold. He slowly brought his head down, allowing Harry time to turn away or refuse him but instead he was met with soft and surprisingly warm lips. He twitched involuntarily, his hands coming away from Harry’s shoulders to curve around his strong jaw in a tender hold. He smiled into Harry’s kiss, opening his mouth to the warm tongue probing his lips. He was lost in the odd combination of hot tongues and cold snow, wet clothes and dry lips, things that shouldn’t fit together but just _do_ and he let himself drift away, anchored only by Harry’s arms crawling around his waist.


End file.
